


Angel

by Alanah (orphan_account)



Category: Outlast
Genre: Angel-Sarah Mclachlan, Cutting, Depression, F/M, Hurt, Knives, Other, Razors, Referenced Emotional Abuse, Referenced Verbal Abuse, Sadness, Scars, Self Harm, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 10:59:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4260861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Alanah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do you do when you feel like no one needs you or wants you around? When you feel no one loves you because they can't? Because you're broken. You're damaged. You're scarred. No one likes bruised bananas. No one likes brown apples. No one likes broken people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angel

**Author's Note:**

> You're in the arms of the angel...may you find some comfort here...

"I was just looking at the moon one night, Y'know? And i had a thought ; 'No one would care if i died tomorrow.' And it scared me, because it's true."  
She looks at Eddie, eyes filled with tears as she traces each of the 36 scars on her left arm.  
"Why are we here, Eddie?" She asks him, voice soft, sad.  
"Why am i here, when no one needs me, Wants me, or loves me?" She stops to stare at her bandaged arm, and for once, Eddie is at a loss for words.  
So they sit on the balcony and watch the moon and the stars and the satellites, until Eddie silently embraces her small frame, and the floodgates open.  
"I don't understand what i did wrong, Eddie" She cries into his shoulder. "I don't understand how i deserve this...how do i deserve to be called fat, stupid, and ugly?"  
Eddie looks down at her, her tear-stained cheeks and red,puffy eyes. She's shaking her head.  
"Darling, no one deserves to be treated this way. You should be loved and cared for, like a flower." He says, not sure how to help her.  
"You're not fat. Or ugly, or stupid."  
"I wish i could believe you..." She stares up into his Ice Blue eyes, and Eddie can see, to his despair, that he can't save her. No one can, and no one ever will.   
"I mean, i'm already damaged. Nobody likes a bruised banana. Nobody likes the brown of the apple. No one likes a broken human."  
Eddie wishes he could help her. He already tried, he reminds himself. You saved her from death not 20 minutes ago, the bandage is proof.  
But she didn't want to be saved. He selfishly kept her here, confined to her earthly prison, and he has forced her to endure more of these negative feelings. Guilt prodded at his mind.  
She holds onto Eddie, her rock, tears dripping onto his shirt.  
"I wish someone would have said those things to me sooner." She comments sleepily.  
"Maybe i wouldn't be so fucking messed up."  
"I know, darling." He whispers, squeezing her closer to him as he sees her eyelids start to close, unshed tears still residing inside.  
"Maybe we all would have turned out differently. But we are what we are, and we are made this way by other circumstances."  
He notices she's already asleep, stray tears spilling out here and there. He kisses her bandaged arm as he carries her off the balcony and into bed, the world seems so quiet.   
So unbroken.  
So Undamaged.  
So...  
Peaceful.  
Eddie sits on the edge of the bed, watching his darling with bloodshot eyes.  
He probably would've turned out differently, if not for his Father, his Uncle, or his negligent mother. He could've turned out fine. She could've been happy, if not for her abusive father, scared mother, or her peers.  
Sure, they might have been happier, safer, and in a much more stable mindset, but would they have ever met? Would they have grown closer, become friends?  
Eddie knew he was speculating upon 'what-if's', but it was nice to entertain the thought that people wouldn't call him a murderer, or look at him with fear. It was nice to entertain the thought that she wouldn't have so many scars, that maybe she wouldn't contemplate suicide, and that maybe she could have been happier.  
Perhaps things happen for a reason. Maybe these things were meant to be. Maybe murders, rapes, and crimes are meant to happen.  
Eddie stopped, and undressed for bed before sliding under the covers, and relaxing, thinking that maybe he'd wake up and this would all be a dream. Maybe he'd wake up, she wouldn't be sad, and he wouldn't be a headcase.  
Maybe.

**Author's Note:**

> I get sad and depressed at night. I'm going to bed, i'm exhausted. I dont know where i went with this shit. Cause its shit. Dont read this shit.


End file.
